Wielder's Rising (18 page)

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Authors: T.B. Christensen

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Epic

BOOK: Wielder's Rising
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“What have you been up to?” Studell asked, interrupting Traven’s thoughts.  “I haven’t talked to you in over a week.”

“I’ve been practicing wielding the ambience every day,” Traven replied.  “It’s been getting easier and easier.  I hardly get headaches anymore.”

“That’s great,” Studell replied.  “I’ve been spending all of my time reading books.  I could read them all day everyday for the rest of my life and never get through them all.”

“I’m glad you’re keeping busy,” Traven said as his stomach grumbled.  “I think it’s breakfast time.  Would you like to join me?”

Studell thought it sounded like a good idea and pushed himself out of the chair.  They left the library and headed to the dining hall.  Eldridge was there eating, and after grabbing their food they went and sat next to him.

“Good morning,” the ancient keeper greeted them.

“Thank you for suggesting that last book,” Studell said in reply.  “It was truly fascinating.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” the keeper replied.  “It’s fortunate that you know the ancient script and can take advantage of the books here in the keep’s library.”  The keeper then turned to address Traven.  “What will you be up to today?”

“I guess I’ll just keep practicing,” he replied.

“I’ve been watching you,” Eldridge said.  “I think you have mastered wielding the simpler spells.  I’ve been surprised by how much your strength in the ambience has already grown.  If you would like, I think we can begin working on some more complicated combinations.”

 

* * * * *

 

Studell watched as Traven followed the ancient keeper out into the courtyard.  The young man was definitely learning fast.  Whenever the philosopher needed to rest his eyes, he would leave the library and walk to a window where he could look out over the courtyard.  Over the past week he had seen Traven repeatedly create flames, water, wind, and even ice.  The young man worked as hard as anyone he had ever met.  If he continued practicing the ambience with such diligence, Studell had no doubt that he would grow to be a master wielder like those he was reading about.

He turned and headed for the library.  It was so exciting to be involved in this new world of magic.  He felt privileged to have had a part in guiding Traven to the keep.  When he had originally insisted that the two of them follow the map, he had never imagined that they would find more than a few old artifacts or perhaps some scraps of ancient writing.

As he walked back into the library, he stopped and stared once again at the numberless books that lined the walls of the large room.  He had seen libraries that were much bigger, but never had he seen so many books full of knowledge that was lost to the rest of the world.  He smiled with satisfaction as he sat down and picked up the book he had been reading.  This was the life.  He imagined that he could live out the rest of his days in Faldor’s Keep and never get bored.

 

* * * * *

 

Traven stood next to Eldridge near the center of the empty courtyard.  He was eager to learn something more complicated and challenging.

“One nickname of old for the wielders was ‘Wind Whisperer’.  This was on account of the wielders being able to, in a sense, send their voices on the wind to people far away.  Obviously the further you try to send it the harder it is, but I think the idea behind it is simple enough.  Do you want to give it a try?”

Traven nodded in response.  It would be fascinating to be able to talk to others that were far away.  He wondered how far he could really send his voice and listened carefully as the keeper began to describe the process.

“First you create a sphere directly in front of your mouth surrounded by swirling particles.  Just swirling particles, mind you; nothing solid.  The only part of the sphere that should be open is the part that is directly connected to your mouth.  You clearly speak a word into the sphere and immediately close up the opening.  You then create wind and use it to guide your sphere of swirling particles to the chosen location.  When it reaches the correct spot, you let the sphere disappear, releasing your word.  Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” Traven replied.  “Let’s try it!”

Eldridge shuffled over to the far end of the courtyard, and Traven began to focus.  Once the keeper was in place, Traven fell into his trance.  The world slowed and the particles swirling around in the air became visible to him.  He tried to move the particles into a spherical pattern but found that he had no control to directly move them at all.  Contemplating on his problem, he realized that he never actually moved the particles himself.  The particles would move of their own accord to create whatever it was that he imagined in the ethereal realm.

He decided to imagine a hollow sphere of ice.  Sure enough, the correct particles began to swirl tightly in a sphere right in front of his mouth, ready to form a ball of ice.  He spoke the keeper’s name into the small opening and immediately imagined it closed.  With the swirling sphere of particles in front of him, he created a breeze to blow the sphere to the edge of the courtyard.  However, as soon as the breeze hit the sphere, the particles scattered in all directions.

Traven paused, thought for a second, and started over.  This time he made a conscious effort to remain focused on his ethereal ice sphere as he pushed the particles forward on a light breeze.  When the ball of swirling particles reached the keeper, he let it disappear and smiled.  However, the smile slowly vanished when he saw no change whatsoever in the keeper.  He obviously hadn’t heard anything.  Traven quickly tried it again with the same result, or lack thereof.  He tried it once again, using a stiff wind to carry the sphere faster.  When it reached the keeper, the ancient man perked up.

“Did you hear it?” Traven yelled excitedly.

“No,” Eldridge yelled back.  “But I felt a stiff wind in my face.”

Traven threw up his arms in frustration.  What was he doing wrong?  Eldridge shuffled back across the courtyard so they could talk without having to yell.

“Explain to me exactly what you did,” the keeper instructed.  Traven obliged him by giving him a detailed description.

“Perhaps you should try it again,” the keeper suggested.  “You can’t expect it to work on your first try.”

“I already sent it to you three times,” Traven replied.

“Oh, I forgot how fast you can do things.”  The keeper paused and thought for a few moments.  “Perhaps your particle sphere isn’t tight enough,” he suggested.  “Perhaps the sound slowly escapes before it reaches me.”

Traven thought about the possibility and decided that it made sense.  It was worth another try.  As soon as the keeper had returned to the far end of the courtyard, he tried again.  He focused on keeping the particles tighter and found that the only way to do it was to come closer to pulling the ice sphere into existence without actually doing it.  This time when he sent the word to the keeper, the particle sphere was much tighter.  When he released the sphere, the keeper smiled.

“I heard something,” Eldridge shouted back to him.  “I couldn’t make it out, but I definitely heard something.”

Encouraged by this, Traven tried again.  Apparently for this to fully work the particles would need to be even tighter.  He tried again, slowly pulling the ice sphere closer to the physical world.  He pulled it so carefully and so slowly that when it came against the barrier that separated the two realms it didn’t burst through.  It merely pushed against and bent the divide.

Fascinated, he kept pulling slowly as the divide stretched even further without breaking.  Wondering how far it could stretch, he kept slowly pulling.

“Ahh!” he shouted as the ice sphere broke through the barrier and appeared directly in front of him.  He jumped backward as it fell to the ground and shattered, just missing his foot.

“What happened?” Eldridge shouted.

Now that he knew where the breaking point was, he formed a hollow ice sphere ethereally, pulled against the divide, and spoke the answer to the keeper’s question.  The particles were now as tight as they could get without actually creating the sphere of ice.  He sent the answer to Eldridge’s question on the wind and held his breath as he released the particles.  The keeper immediately stumbled backwards with a look of surprise.  Traven quickly ran over to him.

“It worked,” Eldridge said excitedly.  “Suddenly it was as if you were standing right in front of me.  I distinctly heard the word ‘accident’ out of the thin air.”  Traven smiled.  It felt great to have succeeded in sending a message on the wind.

“Let’s climb up to one of the towers and practice this a little more,” the keeper said with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

As they walked through the keep and up to one of its towers, Traven practiced keeping a new sphere tight and sailing right in front of them.  When they finally reached the balcony he let it go.  Eldridge jumped in surprise at the sudden sound.  Traven frowned at the garbled mess.

“I wonder why my message ended up sounding that way,” he mused.  He knew that he had kept the swirling particles as tight as before.

“Did you try to say multiple words?” the keeper asked as he worked on slowing his breathing.

“I said a phrase,” Traven replied.  “But I don’t see why that would be a problem.”

“For some reason, if you try and use more than one word they all just get mixed together.  If you want to send multiple words, you have to send them separately.”

Traven nodded in understanding.  He wondered how many spheres of particles he could create at once.  Up on the balcony, he looked out over the entire valley.  In the distance he could see several of the guardians tending some crops.

“Do you see anyone out there?” the ancient keeper asked.

“Darian and two other guardians are over there,” Traven said while pointing at them.

“I can’t see them,” Eldridge said while squinting.  “But I trust you’re right.  You are a wielder and have advanced vision.  How about you try and send a message to those guardians?”

“Do you think I can send it that far?”

“I don’t see why not,” the keeper replied.  “If you can see them, there’s no reason why you can’t direct your words to them.”

He supposed that Eldridge was correct in his assumption.  He thought for a few moments about what he wanted to say.  He then took a deep breath and tried sending several words in succession.

 

* * * * *

 

Darian rose back up from the ground and tossed another vegetable into the basket.  He wiped his brow with the back of his hand.  Even though he had been trained as a warrior, he didn’t mind doing the domestic work of gardening.  He even found it somewhat relaxing.

At times, while he methodically took care of the crops, he dreamt of traveling to lands far away and also of his elven home in the mountain forest.  He had been a guardian of the keep for over sixteen years now and looked forward to the time when he could return home.  However, until then he would be satisfied guarding and maintaining the keep.  He knew his duty.  He smiled as a cool breeze touched his face.

“Darian . . .”

He jumped, looking around in confusion.  The sound had not come from either of the two human guardians working alongside him.  They too were looking around in confusion.  Darian hadn’t heard anyone approach, and quickly scanning the trees, he didn’t see anyone else nearby.

“. . . thanks. . . for . . . your . . .”  There was an even longer pause and then a barely audible whisper, “. . . service.”

He looked around in surprise, unable to determine the origin of the voice.  It seemed to be coming straight out of the air in front of him.  Was it a message from his ancestors in the great realm beyond?  His two companions continued looking around nervously, seeking for the source of the message.  He continued scanning the valley.  As his keen elf gaze swept over the keep it stopped.  Standing on the balcony of the northeast tower, looking in his direction were the keeper and Traven.

“Wind Whisperer,” he muttered.  Turning to his two companions he pointed at the keep and let them know the message had been carried on the wind and was from Traven.  The three guardians all had a good chuckle at their jumpiness and went back to work.

Darian glanced at the keep again before leaning back over.  The boy was definitely not a master wielder yet, but his progress had been rapid.  He had seen the boy do amazing things while practicing in the courtyard, and now Traven was whispering on the wind.  He began to somewhat understand why his ancestors had chosen to bind themselves to and follow the master wielders of old.

 

* * * * *

 

“Did they hear it?” Eldridge asked eagerly.

“Yes,” Traven replied, trying to keep from laughing.  “They all jumped and were nervously looking around for the source of the message until Darian spotted us up here.”

“How wonderful,” Eldridge said clapping his hands.

Traven’s smile got even bigger as he began to think of all of the fun he could have with what he had just learned.  He tried not to dwell on the mischievous side of his thoughts and instead concentrated on how useful it could be in relaying important messages and information.

“How far away can I send a message?” he asked the keeper.

“Well,” the keeper said while scratching his head, “theoretically, as far as you can guide it.  Of course the further the message has to go and the longer it takes to reach its destination, the more diluted the word will become.  Keep practicing,” he said with a smile.  “After lunch I will teach you to scree.”

Traven nodded as the ancient man shuffled away.  He had no idea what to ‘scree’ meant but was excited to find out, especially if it was anything like whispering on the wind.  He turned away from the keep and looked out over the valley.  He began sending messages out over the valley to no one in particular.  He continued practicing, and the task became easier and easier.

The more he practiced, the less thought it took to keep the particles tight enough to contain the words.  He soon had numerous words floating to the edge of the valley in rapid succession.  At first it was difficult to hold them steady for such a distance, but as he continued doing it over and over and as he began to alter the shapes of the word containers, it became increasingly easier.  By midday he was able to easily send whole messages in a row out over the tops of the mountains that surrounded the valley without much thought.

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